Fallen Angel
by ThreeJane
Summary: FINISHED! a homicide, a secret life and a friend.... What happens when Warrick finds that he knows the victim? Will the revelations help to solve the case or only mess up Warrick's life? R&R, pls.
1. Just Another Case

Disclaimer: I don't own Las Vegas, the concept of the SCI-TV-series or any  
of the characters or actors. I don't make money from this and I don't have  
any, so don't sue me.  
  
  
a homicide, a secret life and a friend.... What happens when Warrick finds that he knows the victim? Will the revelations help to solve the case or only mess up Warrick's life? R&R, pls.  
  
  
  
"Gris, Cath. Over there." Lt. Jackson waved the CSIs to the actual scene.  
  
While Gil exchanged a few words with the officer, Cath simply nodded. The  
scene was eerie, like most of them: halogen lamps lighting up the night with  
their harsh white beams, blinding. Audience kept in check by thin yellow  
tape and somewhere the victim. There must be some silent agreement, Cath  
thought, because all the time people kept a small are free, they all tried  
to stay away from the victim of a homicide. Not so much out of respect, but  
as if the curse of death would jump onto them if they got too close.  
  
"Who found him?" Gil asked.  
  
"Bunch'a teens. Over there." Two pairs of eyes swept into the indicated  
direction, taking in the stances of the youngsters standing there.   
  
"No need to keep them here. Note their addresses, we might have some  
questions for them later." Gil said while he put on his latex gloves and  
stepped forward to reach that empty circle of which the corpse was the  
center.  
  
Blond hair streaked with blood, a torn shirt, now dirty, wet with blood, the  
legs in a pair of low-crotch jeans twisted unnaturally. The victim laid  
face-down.   
After all photos were taken, they started to examine the coprse itself.   
  
"Oh my! That's a kid!" Cath exclaimed. The boy's face, although twisted with  
fear and pain, still it had an angelic, innocent expression.   
  
Gil observed the various bruises and ruptures, then stared motionless at the  
surrounding ground.  
  
"He was stoned to death, I think." the supervisor picked up a large stone  
with some blood on it and put it into one of his many evidence-bags.  
  
"No ID with him. Do we have a name already?" Cath asked no-one specific.  
  
"Naw. We'll check the missing cases." answered on of the cops.  
  
"This is a frontier, right?" Gil asked the officer.   
  
"Yep. Latinos and blacks clash here pretty often." came the answer.  
  
"So. They harass a student, throw stones and sticks at him, chase him down  
the shoulder. Eventually one hits a critical area on the head or the boy  
falls, cracks his head and dies. Plausible?" Gil cocked one eyebrow as he  
looked at Catherine.  
  
"Not impossible.  
  
  
Still on their way back to the lab, Gil was called: they had the probable  
name of the boy: Marcus Wilmington. They would get to his foster-parents as  
soon as the photos were processed. 


	2. Revelations

Note: For God's sake, can't I use a name only because it occurs in 'The Simpsons'? For what it's worth: I changed the bar from Moe's to Golden Gate. That's a gay bathhouse here in my city, I walk my dog by every day - hopefully that is now authentic enough.  
  
  
  
----------------------  
S-O-L-V-E-D  
A brown hand wrote it down on the large white-board in the cell that displayed the status of his lateset case. //a hundred-thirty-five// Warrick thought, still and continuously in competition with Nick.  
  
The fax went off, spitting out a sheet. Being closest to the maching, Warrick grabbed it. It was addressed to Gil, some missing person. On the second page was the picture: a teenage-boy, smiling happily.  
  
Not taking his eyes off the picture Warrick slowly walked over to Gil's office.  
  
"Hey, man, you got mail. Work on a missing?" the tall brown CSI slowly handed Gil the fax.  
  
"No, murder, actually." his boss answered.  
  
"And this?" Warrick pointed at the fax.  
  
After a few moments of closely observing the picture, Gil glanced up, "The victim."  
  
"What?" Warrick nearly yelled.  
  
Both Cath and Gil looked up in sheer surprise. Why would Warrick react like this? Although the dark-skinned CSI was usually sympathetic with the victims of a crime, he did not use to freak like this. Two pairs of inquisitive, surprised eyes were on him.  
  
"What is it, Warrick? Do you happen to know him?" Gil asked, not letting any surprise interfere with his calm outward appearance.  
  
"Yeah! I mean..." Warrick realized he could not back off any more. "He used to hang out at a bar, 'Golden Gate'. How did it happen?"  
  
"It seems he was stoned to death." Cath filled in, her eyes not leaving the form of her deeply upset co-worker.  
  
"Isn't the Golden Gate a gay bar?" Gil asked slowly. He remembered a case that was related to the place.  
  
"Yeah..." Warrick said slowly, pretty much insecure. Then, with defiance in his voice: "You got a problem with that?"  
  
"No." Gil replied curtly. Then, a bit more gentle the supervisor added, "It's not our business where and how you spend your time off, Warrick. I don't mind. I really don't. Why don't you tell us what you know about this boy?"  
  
"Yeah. Well, I don't know his name. We call – we called him Angel. I guess he was just about to discover he was gay. I saw him hanging around several times but I never... I mean, hey! He's only a kid! Why would somebody kill a kid? Only if – " Warrick's voice trailed off.  
  
"If – what?" Gil would not let go now.  
  
Catherine gave Gil a warning look, not to push Warrick too far. She had never seen Warrick like this.  
  
Warrick wiped his face and sighed, "Only if it's another case of gay-bashing. There seem to be several cases of hate-related aggression lately. The community is pretty upset."   
  
"I haven't heard of any such things lately." Cath threw in.  
  
"Oh, sure. People keep away from the police. They hide and hope it passes. There has been beating and kicking and throwing of stones – maybe Angel was too frail and the attack too hard?"  
  
"That's very valuable information, Warrick. I appreciate that a lot. Brass and me will inform the parents. Cath, are you going to meet me at the morgue in, say, one hour?" Gil packed the packers and readied himself to leave.  
  
"Sure thing." She said and went to finish some paperwork.  
  
Warrick followed Grisson and stopped him in the hall, "Gris, uhm, I'd prefer to keep that kinda confidential, you know? 'Bout me hangin' out at that place and all."  
  
"You don't have to mention that, Warrick." Gil calmed his protégé.   
  
"Thanks, man." Warrick headed for the break-room where he poured himself some coffee. He was alone and stared into the dark liquid. Stared and stared.  
  
  
  
"I didn't know that you're gay." Cath's voice made him jump. The door was closed now.  
  
"Actually, I'm not." He answered.  
  
"You really don't have to hide like this. I'm cool with that. I won't shun you." She tried to make clear she did not mind his sexual orientation. Although Cath felt a strange twinge – it could hardly be disapproval, could it?  
  
"No, you don't understand. I'm not gay. Neither am I straight. When I fall in love, then I don't look for a certain gender. I'm bi." Ok, now it was out. He looked at Cath to measure her reaction. Her opinion mattered a lot to him. To his relief he saw nothing negative, only surprise. She stepped closer and put her hand on his shoulder.  
  
"It doesn't make you less of a person, Warrick. Only idiots would despise you. There'd better be nobody around here trying to harass you or whoever it is will get to know me!"   
  
Warrick put his hand on hers, "Thanks, Cath. You're a real friend."  
  
"You want to help in that case? We might need an insider." Cath had checked with Gil.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They left together for the morgue where they met Gil and a coroner.  
  
  
  
+++  
  
  
"The deathly hit was not one on the head and in fact none of those. You see this?" the coroner pointed at a bruise directly below the sternum.  
  
"A hit on the sloarplexus!" Gil exclaimed softly, "the lung collapsed, he faded and suffocated?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"They or the one assailant sees him fall and goes away, probably satisfied with what he did, not even knowing the boy was in critical condition. Manslaughter." Cath added.  
  
Warrick stood in silence. None of the things he heard made the case less touching. It was the first time he was more or less personally involved in a case during his time at the CSI. An experience he would have loved to skip.  
  
"But that is not all. I found. There were three different types of sperm in the kid's rectum plus several large ruptures in the rectum and sphincter." The coroner continued.  
  
"He was raped?" Cath sounded angry and incredulous. What a sick mind!  
  
Warrick hurried outside, suddenly feeling terribly sick. He did not make it to the bathroom though. He faded in the hall.  
  
The sound of his collapse let Gil and Cath speed out of the lab.  
  
  
+++  
  
"Warrick? Hey, you OK?" Gil knelt at his side.  
  
"Wha... what? Oh, man!" Warrick looked around, "I faded, huh?"  
  
"I want you to go home." Gil said.  
  
"No! I –" Warrick protested.  
  
"You are going to go home. Get some rest, take this day off and try to clear your head." Gil's voice was authoritarian and Warrick knew nothing would change his supervisor's mind. He agreed with a sigh and left with a hanging head.  
  
What the hell was going on with him?   
How could he let a case get that close to him?   
Warrick wondered on and on while he drove to his place. There he undressed and threw himself on the bed. They were right, he thought, he should try and get some sleep and clear his head.  
  
Was he scared?  
Guilty.  
Warrick felt guilty. He had known of the bashing and he should have tried to convince his buddies to go and report the incidents. If he had done so, Angel would maybe still alive.  
Fuck, but he had screwed up once more! Like with Holly...  
He tossed around but couldn't sleep.  
Poor sweet little Angel! 


	3. Talk

note: there has to be a bit of romance, hasn't it?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She had waited a while but it seemed that nobody would answer the door-bell. Just the moment she turned to leave, the door opened.  
  
"Catherine." Warrick's deep voice sounded sleepy.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you." She excused while taking in his form: he wore a pair of boxers and a shirt he had quickly put on and misbuttoned.  
  
"Wanna come-in?" Warrick gave way and she accepted with a smile. It was the first time that Catherine set foot into his den and she looked around curiously. It was one large room with the bed separated by string-curtains so it was visible, yet it wasn't. The rest of the room was sparsely funished with a leather couch, a matching chair, a low wooden table and a small eat-in kitchenette in the opposite corner of the bed. It was neat with a few cluttered clothes on the floor. The walls were covered with book-shelves.  
  
"Want some coffee?" his voice interrupted her examination.  
  
"Oh, ahm, yes please."  
  
"I'm sorry but the whips, cuffs and the other nasty stuff is in the cellar." Warrick chuckled.  
  
"What?" Cath was irritated.  
  
"Oh, you look around as if this is a crime scene and you can't find the weapon."  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to appear nosey." She inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee, "Hmmm, smells great!"  
  
Warrick carried a tray to the low table, "Take a seat." He switched on the sound system and let Marla Glen fill the background with her great voice. Then he disappeared in the bathroom where he put on sweat-pants and a sweater. It would make him feel less vulnerable and probably Cath more comfortable. Although she was probably jaded enough not to freak out over a man in boxers.  
  
When he returned she had taken a seat on the couch and served herself. So Warrick occupied his favorite chair and folded his long legs up on the seat. His green eyes watched her attentively.  
  
"How are you?" she finally asked.  
  
"So-so. I never before had a case that held some personal involvement ready. Looks like I'm not coping too good." He frowned.  
  
"Soon or later it get to you. One way or another. You'll learn how to make it through."  
  
"I should. Can't afford fading all the time." The man managed a wry grin.  
  
"I thought you might want to get updated?" she suggested, staring at his bare feet with the wiggling long toes. Was he nervous?  
  
"Sure."  
  
"We were at the bar and found the bartender rather talkative. He ..." Cath closed her eyes. It was still hard to believe what they had learned, "He said Angel was hooking."  
  
"Good Lord, he was half a baby!" Warrick exclaimed. A new wave of nausea swept over him. "I mean, Cath, he surely wasn't even shaving. What a sicko would..." the man wiped his face. "So you're now looking for the Jones?"  
  
"Yeah. Only, we don't have a clue. Gil and Nick are down there, trying to collect samples from the guests. I'm not quite required."  
  
"I bet! You were the first female in that shack in years, I guess. I should be there." Warrick stood.  
  
"No. Gil wants you to stay away. No need to compromise you. They can handle it."  
  
Reluctantly Warrick sat down again and sipped on his coffee.  
  
"Oh, man! I'd love to see Nicky and Gris flirting with the boys. I bet Nick is dying!" he grinned.  
  
"I hear you!" Cath laughed at the idea.  
  
After a moment of silence, Catherine felt she could come to the point.  
  
"Warrick, I have to admit that your revelation did make me feel somehow queasy. I'm sorry but it's true."  
  
She could see his face suddenly harden as he braced himself for whatever insult or missionary sermon would follow her words now. His jaw was set firmly and even without moving he suddenly had such a defensive aura, it hurt Cath to see Warrick like this. He didn't say a word.  
  
"I needed a while to understand what it was, why I reacted that way. It's not as if you're the only gay guy I know. Then I realized it was utter disappointment. I was completely disappointed that with you being gay I would never have a chance to date you. Being honest, I'm damn glad you're bi." She was a bit uncertain if she had not said too much, revealed too much of her emotions.   
  
Warrick didn't say a word for quite a while. Then, suddenly he laughed. Catherine flinched. Warrick ridiculed her?  
  
"You were jealous?" he finally exclaimed. "Oh, Cath!"  
  
"Stupid, huh?" she smiled awkwardly.  
  
"Why did you never ask for a date?" the incredulity in his voice was clear. He admired Cath and he would have never dared to ask her out because he thought himself being too young, that he would bore her or whatever. On the other hand they had a lot in common, they understood each other probably better than any other colleague would. Better than most people would.  
  
"I thought you would think I was too old anyway." Cath shrugged.  
  
"I never asked because I thought I was too young." They both laughed, realizing how stupid they had acted out of fear of being rejected. "Damn pride!"  
  
"Warrick..."  
  
"No. Listen, when we get this solved and I feel better, can I ask you out? 'Cause right now I wouldn't be good company and look like shit." Warrick smiled.  
  
"Sure you can." Cath smiled and for Warrick it was as if the sun had come up.  
  
The blond woman looked at her watch, "I have to go home, see Lindsay."  
  
"Sure." Warrick showed Cath to the door, "Thanks for dropping by." The tall man hugged the woman gently and dared to put a soft kiss on her forehead. He watched her leave and only then closed the door.  
  
For quite a while he stood in the room and stared at the table, wonder and disbelief in his eyes: he would go on a date with Catherine Willows! 


	4. Theories

"Hi! Anything new?" Warrick entered Gris' office with a fresh coffe. He still looked a bit shaken but it was obvious the young man had gotten a grip again.  
  
"Warrick." Gil greeted his protégé, "Of course none of the Joneses admitted to have been with Marcus. We managed to sneak away some pieces we can use as DNA-samples, though."  
  
"You… how did you do that?" Warrick had an idea, but he wanted to hear it.  
  
"Oh, Nicky's a pretty boy, good to talk to." Gris grinned.  
  
"Oh man! But I bet you didn't leave empty handed as well. I mean, if you keep the bugs out of sight, you're attractive." Warrick laughed.  
  
"Thanks for the compliment. Indeed, I snatched two or three items. Greg is already doing the scans." Gil couldn't help but smile. Warrick left to see if he could speed up Greg somehow.  
  
+++  
  
"Nick, bro! Heard you have a new obsession?" Warrick strolled casually into the break-room to get another coffe before he would scan the personal belongings of Marcus once more.  
  
"What?" Nick looked up from a magazine.  
  
"Yesterday. You. Gris said you guys went cruising?" Warrick made it sound as if he was completely incredulous.  
  
"Oh man! Don't remind me! I can still feel their stares and greedy hands on me."   
  
"The curse of being attractive, Nick." Warrick laughed.  
  
"You know, it made me think of women. I mean, we treat them a lot like that. I felt like a chunk of meat yesterday." Nick was honestly thoughtful, "I should really keep this in mind."  
  
"Well then, keep your back to the wall, man." Warrick amicably slapped Nick's back and headed for the lab.  
  
+++  
  
"Hey!" Warrick was indeed a little bit nervous. He had decided to try and keep the thing on a professional basis at work. No need to give them a reason for gossip before even he himself knew whether things would work out with Cath or not. He first wanted to become more stable. He believed that, for a working relationship he had to get rid of his addiction. He had seen too often addictions ruining everything, hurting people and destroying trust. It was not what he wanted and Cath and Linds sure deserved better than that..  
  
"Hi. How are you?" Cath was already buried in work.  
  
"Better. Your visit helped a lot, for several reasons."  
  
"Glad to hear." Cath had decided to keep their date under covers. Not only was there no need to start gossip, but she wanted to be certain before she would present a lover to Lindsay. The kid needed stability, not a bunch of changing lovers coming and going. OK, to be honest, there had been none. And she would not start confronting the kid with several guys. Lindsay would meet Mr. Right when it was certain. She hoped Warrick would understand this.  
  
"So, you found anything?" Warrick put on the gloves.  
  
"Nope." Catherine sighed, "probably they didn't even had physical contact."  
  
"Yeah. Man, there must be something! Did we find the books?"  
  
"Nothing." Cath shook her head.  
  
"Why would he carry an empty school-bag around?"  
  
"So the assailant took the books away."  
  
"Why?" Warrick said.  
  
"Imagine you stalk that kid. You throw stones until Marcus collapses. If you're a fag-hater, you'd be content by now, right?"  
  
"Right." The tall man winced.  
  
"If you were really bold, you'd search for money, right?"  
  
"Unless I get interrupted, probably."  
  
"So you search Marcus. You search his bag. Maybe you find money. Why do you pick up the books you scattered around earlier?"  
  
"I'm afraid I left fingerprints." Warrick stated the obvious, "But why then did I not take the bag as well? Would make sense. On the other hand: If I had left fingerprints on my search, I would have left some on his bag or his clothes. But there are none."  
  
"So the books were not taken away because of fingerprints." Cath said.  
  
"No. What did you have in your school-bag? I mean, there are not only books, right?"  
  
"Phew. Standard stuff: make-up, pens, books, lunch, my notes –"  
  
"Notes! His notes, Cath, that's it!" Warrick was excited, "OK, I knew my victim, probably have rented him earlier. For some reason we start arguing. Things get physical, somehow I stone him. I'm afraid he might have notes on me, so I grab all his books and stuff. Skimming onsite would take too much time, so I take it all with me."  
  
"You'd make a good criminal" Cath smiled  
  
"Thank you so much! Problem: still no prints." Warrick frowned.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They kept looking for several moments. Then Catherine checked the empty school-bag once more. Her hands accidentally slipped into the bag's inner lining. It was broken at that spot! Catherine took a closer look.  
  
"Bingo!" She exclaimed.  
  
"What?" Warrick was at her side in no time, leaning over her shoulder so follow the beam of light. Two crumpled, folded sheets covered with hand-written notes.   
  
"Take a picture, Warrick!"  
  
The man complied, then Catherine pulled out the paper, unfolded it and started to read. It was covered with notes and dates, observations on a Jones who obviously had bought Marcus' service several times.  
  
"OK, now we can go back and try to find this Mr. Caruthers at that bar."  
  
"What are you waiting for?" Warrick held open the door. 


	5. Another Dead-End

Catherine was driving, following Warrick's directions to a part of Vegas she had never visited before. The closer they got to the bar, the more nervous grew Warrick. More and more he doubted it was a good idea to go there, with Cath, that is.  
  
"You, ah, you wanna wait outside?" he asked, fumbling with the seatbelt and deliberately not looking up at her.  
  
"No. Why should I?" Cath wondered why he would want her to that.  
  
"Ahm..." Warrick ruffled his hair, "a woman isn't exactly a frequent sighting in there."  
  
"I'm sure they won't go up in flames right away, hmmm?" Cath grinned, locked the door and set off. Her co-worker had no choice but to follow her.  
  
+++  
  
The place was not as dark as Cath had suspected. Walls in black and red, tables and booths, a bar and in the back a sofa along the wall where young men cuddled or were busy making out. Many pictures of nude men lined the walls, most of them tasteful photos of gorgeous bodies. Loud music resonated in her stomach. Some eyed her suspiciously, most ignored her completely. They seemed certain the odd couple would soon realize they tried to anchor at the wrong dock and leave.  
  
Warrick greeted some guys with a curt nod as he strutted directly to the bar.   
  
"Hey Ricky-babe! How's it hangin'?" The man behind the bar wore a skin-tight black polyester tank-top on a body that spoke of intense work-outs. He was a real eye-candy though not her type. Cath couldn't help but throw a glance at Warrick, to see how the CSI reacted, but he kept a dead-pan.  
  
"So-so, Jack. Honestly I'm here for business." He waved his CSI-ID, "You heard about Angel?"  
  
Jack seemed extremely uncomfortable, "Heard rumors, but nobody wanted to confirm anything. Is it really true?"  
  
"Yeah." Warrick nodded gravely.  
  
"Oh my God! I should get myself a gun. Should have done so a long time ago!" the man bit his fist. Warrick winced in sympathy for he knew that Jack had already gotten into two really bad bashings and the man was very disturbed by the fact that there was another wave rolling over the community. Jack then looked back at Warrick, "now you're looking for clues – HERE?"  
  
"Do you know a man by the name of Caruthers?" Cath jumped in.  
  
Jack looked at Catherine as if he hadn't noticed her before, "I'm not the local phonebook, lady. If you tell me what he looks like, I maybe could tell you if I have seen him here before."  
  
Cath looked sourly and before she could return some sharp-tongued comment, Warrick jumped in:  
  
"We don't know. We only have that name. Probably used to hang out with Angel?"  
  
In an intimate gesture Jack put his hand on Warrick's forearm, "Hey, Ricky, you know I would really want to help you, but you know as well as I do how crowded this place is usually. I know regulars but – " the man shrugged.  
  
Warrick sighed, "Yeah. Listen: this is my card. If you happen to find somebody, give me a call, OK? We all would appreciate if you kept your ears open, Jack. See ya, man."  
  
"Bye, honey!"  
  
Catherine had followed the conversation quietly but very attentive. After all, this was a part of Warrick she had never even dreamt it existed. Now the tall man gave her a nod towards the doors: there was nothing more they could do at this moment. The two CSIs turned and walked towards the door that opened suddenly. Five men in black leather entered the bar. Cath got surprised stares but Warrick was greeted with big helloes and hugs before he could escape the place.  
  
Neither of them spoke a word before they were back in the car.  
  
Cath revved the engine up, "So, what's your type?"  
  
"You don't really wanna know, do you?" Warrick gave her a nervous glance. Man! She could ask questions!  
  
"I do. This is... pretty new to me. I mean, I've seen a lot but this side of yours is completely new to me. I'd like to know, really." Cath wanted to get to know Warrick better and now that she had gotten a glimpse into a well kept hidden secret part of the younger man's life, she was curious.  
  
"Leather." He said simply. Then he hurried to ad some explanations to avoid wrong impressions: "Not those S/M guys, I don't like pain! I just like the smell of leather and the way it snuggles up against the body." Then he laughed: "Pretty boring and disappointing, huh?"  
  
"No." Cath made a mental note to wear her leather-jeans on their date – if that should ever happen.  
  
They both were frustrated and the rest of the trip back to the lab was made in silence. They had hoped that name would have led them to some real person, if not to the killer. They trotted to the break-room where they nearly bumped into Grissom.  
  
"So, what were you two doing and where?" their supervisor asked them.  
  
"Looking for a guy." Warrick said curtly as he headed over to the coffee-maker, "Cath?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll have a cup, thanks. Gris, we found a note in the boy's backpack that mentions a Jones by the name of Caruthers. We went to the Golden Gate to see if they know that man there." She shrugged.  
  
Grissom knew that face Cath made right now, "But they did not."   
  
"At least that's what he said." Cath snorted.  
  
"Ah, come-on! He brushed you off, but Jack would never help a killer. He's a really nice guy!" Warrick came over with the coffee.  
  
"Except he's already threatened. Looks like even I could do that." Cath snatched the coffee from her colleague's hand. It nearly spilled. Gris arched one eyebrow, wondering what was going on between those two.  
  
"Oh, a guy must be gruff and tough to be a man, huh?" Warrick said mockingly.  
  
"I didn't say that. But he doesn't need to be a sissy either. Jack's afraid of his own shadow" Cath shot back.  
  
"Being honest, if I had to choose, I'd surely choose Jack 'ere I'd fuck someone like Eddie." Holy fucking shit! Had he said that? The moment it had slipped off his tongue Warrick froze. "Cath, I'm sorry –"  
  
"This is enough! I want you both to stop quarreling over private issues. There's a job to be done!" Grissom broke the quarreling co-workers up "Warrick, I want you to get over Marcus' clothes once more. Really good looking. Catherine will come with me to question the parents."  
  
Warrick nodded, unable to produce any intelligible sound. He stared at his coffee, grimaced and walked to the sink where he poured it out. Leaving the break-room he nearly ran Nick over.  
  
"Whoa, brother!" Nick jumped aside. Warrick didn't even seem to notice as he stormed away to the dry-room. 


	6. Case solved, issues open

"Hello Mrs. Wilmington. Are you up to a few more questions?" Gil and Cath stood at the front-door of the Wilmington-family's house. In fact: ex-family, now cruelly reduced back to couple without children. And Mrs. Wilmington seemed old enough to not being able to change that state ever again.  
  
How unfair, thought Cath. Only because such a goddamn kid-screwing fag... she stopped when Marcus' mother nodded wearily and led them to the living –room where they sat down around a low table.  
  
It was an unspoken agreement that Cath would do the talking.  
  
"Mrs. Wilmington we may have a name and we hope that maybe you have heard it before. Maybe Marcus mentioned him once?"  
  
"I hope so. What is this name?" the woman was tense, the grief of the days past showed on her face in deep lines and dark shadows under her eyes. Her husband was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Caruthers. Maybe somebody in the neighborhood?" Cath and Gil watched intensely, anxious not to miss the faintest reaction on the woman's face. If there was anything left to shock the mourning woman, this name obviously did so.  
  
"Caruthers? That can't be – I mean he's his teacher. It must be somebody else with that name."  
  
"His teacher? Do you know his address?" Gil was alert.   
  
"No... you must be mistaken. Mr. Caruthers is such a nice young man." The mother could not or would not believe that a teacher could have killed her beloved son.  
  
"Then, give us the address of the school, we'll see if we can find him there." Gil stood and Cath followed suit.  
  
Provided with the address they rushed off in the car, Gil calling Warrick to have him get a warrant and meet them at the school.  
  
+++  
  
They had to wait a while for Warrick to arrive.  
  
"I had not realized you were having problems with gays." Gil stated after a long silence during their wait.  
  
"I don't – " Cath protested. Ridiculous Gild would think she was that narrow-minded!  
  
"Then, pray tell, what was that between you and Warrick?"  
  
"That's personal, Gil. I'd like to keep it that way." Cath retorted.  
  
"Catherine," Gil turned to face her, "It ceases to be personal the moment it starts to interfere with your job. This did."  
  
"It won't happen again." Cath said curtly.  
  
After another pause Gil tried again, "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"  
  
There was no response for several moments, then Cath started to speak: "We were at this bar and the guy in question so brushed me off, it really pissed me off. Then he was really scared and upset and I tell you, if I hadn't been there, Warrick would have hugged and comforted him. God! You should have seen how they looked at each other."  
  
"Warrick has a protective streak, we all know that." Gil said calmly.  
  
"Yeah." Her voice was nearly bitter, "As I stood there I thought that this ridiculous sissy with his polished fingernails had probably gotten so much more of his protectiveness than I – " Cath stopped and looked at Gil who slowly started to understand.  
  
"Catherine, jealousy is a bad counselor. You'll have to accept that Warrick will not be able to give you what you desire from him. But it's not his fault. In fact it's nobody's fault." Gil told her gently.  
  
"Gil, I don't know what came over me. I mean Warrick is not gay. He's bi. He told me so the same day he confessed he knew Angel. And we – we agreed in ... well, seeing each other when this case is over. I really don't know why I reacted like this."  
  
"The two of you should talk." Gil nodded.  
  
"You telling me this?" Cath sounded a little bit amused.  
  
"Yes. Because I have obviously been waiting too long all the time."  
  
"Waiting for what? Am I that late?" suddenly Warrick was there, looking into the open window at Gil's side, waving with the warrant. The man pretended to be fine although he clearly avoided eye-contact with Catherine. Warrick felt like an idiot for his inane comment about Eddie! But his pride kept telling him he had reacted that way because she had – somehow – attacked his way of life. Something he would not allow anybody to do.  
  
He kept kicking his ass for admitting to her and Grissom he was not just the average straight guy next-door. He had trusted them to be open-minded enough to accept who he was. Obviously he had been mistaken. OK, lesson learned.  
  
  
+++  
  
  
Warrick stood in the observation-room and stared through the thick, mirrored glass. On the other side Caruthers was being interrogated by Gris and Catherine. They had taken Caruthers' fingerprints and Greg was processing them right now.  
  
Warrick had agreed to stand back. He was too much involved emotionally and he knew that.  
  
The door opened and Warrick's head spun around, hoping it was Sanders. But it was Nick.  
  
"Hey, bro. It's getting intrusting. Greg's going to present the results now. It's a perfect match." Nick said, staring through the pane as well. Warrick nodded.  
  
+++  
  
"Mr. Caruthers, how do you explain your fingerprints on Marcus' bag?" Grissom asked calmly after Greg had handed him the clipboard with the results of the analysis.  
  
The suspect was very nervous, and although he tried to appear calm, all his gestures betrayed him. He wasn't able to keep his hands on the same spot for a minute. Now he combed his hair with his fingers for the umpteenth time.  
  
"I guess I checked his bag sometime in school. What do you expect? I'm his teacher." Caruthers said.  
  
"A bloody fingerprint?" Gris arched one eyebrow.  
  
"Maybe I had cut my thumb. How shall I recall completely unimportant incidents all of a sudden?"  
  
"Not your blood, Mr. Caruthers. Marcus' blood. How comes the kid's blood on your hands? Don't you have gloves?" Gris kept poking.  
  
"He's gonna break." Nick said.  
  
"Yeah." Warrick agreed.  
  
"I ... I didn't want this to happen! I went to that goddamn bar for cruising. Marcus must have seen me and he started to blackmail me. My God! They would probably kick me out of school, so I paid." Caruthers looked helpless.  
  
"Blackmail? How much?" Cath asked.  
  
"At first? Fitfty dollars. When Marcus saw how easy it was he came back and wanted more. And more. He told me about the notes he had taken. Names, places, everything. I kept paying for three months and he wouldn't stop..." Caruthers buried his head in his hands.  
  
"That kid was a bastard, if that's true." Nick sounded incredulous.  
  
Warrick did not answer. It was hard to believe that behind that sweet, innocent face was such an evil mind working.  
  
"So you waited for a good opportunity and killed him. Covering it up as a gang-fight, since you have precise knowledge of the gangs in your school's area." Grissom ended.  
  
"No!" Caruthers exclaimed.  
  
"What then?"   
  
"I learned Marcus was hooking. That night I waited for him to talk. I told him if he stopped blackmailing me, I would not tell anybody about his activities. He – he only laughed and said I had paid enough for a free fuck if I wanted to. Called me names and ... I lost it. I shoved him and he fell down the shoulder. And I threw stones at him. Yes, I hoped fervently to be able to cover it up." The man was shaking.   
  
"Why did you take the books with you? Where are they now?" Gris asked mercilessly.  
  
"I hoped his notes would be in there. I was too scared to search the stuff right there, so I took them with me. Later I decided to simply burn everything. I did not want to kill him. I thought he was unconscious. I thought without his notes he'd not be able to accuse me. I thought... Oh, God! I'm sorry!"  
  
Brass arrested Caruthers and brought the man to jail. 


	7. Altercation

Warrick felt the strain of the case as he laid on his bed. He had closed all blinds when he came home and tried to get some sleep.   
It wouldn't come.   
His head was racing.  
He should apologize for what he had said.  
Brown was afraid he had ruined it before it had begun.  
  
Somebody rang the door-bell.  
Warrick ignored it.  
The bell rang again and with a sigh the man walked to the front-door.  
  
"I thought I should see how you are doing." Grissom said matter-of-factly as he mustered Warrick who had nothing on but a pair of shorts.  
  
"Hey, man. Wanna come-in?" Warrick gave way for his supervisor and Gris accepted with a curt nod.  
  
They both agreed on having a coffee and soon the scent of freshly ground grains filled the air.  
  
"Smells great." Gris commented.  
  
"Yeah. A real good brew can make your day." Warrick prepared two mugs, no sugar or milk. He knew Gris had his coffee black like he himself. Warrick preferred good stuff pure.  
  
As usual, Warrick folded up in his preferred chair.  
  
"Do you feel better?" Gris asked.  
  
"Yeah. Case's solved. Only..." Warrick did not know whether he should discuss his private life with his boss.  
  
"Only the argument with Catherine, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
The door-bell rang once more. Warrick groaned. No matter who it might be, he wasn't in the mood to open.  
  
"Stay put. I'll handle this." Gris walked to the door. "Cath!" this was a real surpise.  
  
"Gil. What are you doing here?" When the man did not give way, she asked, "Can I come in?"  
  
"I'm not sure if it's a good moment. He's... Warrick's pretty jaded." Gris realized it was not his place to decided who was to get in, so he finally gave way. Cath brushed by.  
  
"Uh, Catherine..." Warrick greeted her wearily and straightened. He should get dressed. He could see his boss standing behind Cath, shrugging his shoulders to signal his helplessness. "Just a sec." Warrick disappeared in his bathroom.  
  
Catherine turned to face Gil, "He doesn't have to dress for you, huh?"  
  
"Uh, what do you want to say with that, Cath?" Gil was puzzled.  
  
"Oh, I mean, you scarcely ever visit anybody, and now all of a sudden everybody shows up here at Warrick's." Cath felt another pang of jealousy.  
  
"We both know this case got to him. I don't think it's such an extraordinary action to care for my crew." Gil said.  
  
"You didn't do this for Nick." Cath sneered.  
  
"Nick has a different personality." Gil explained calmly.  
  
"Could you two stop arguing?" Warrick stood in the room, being completely ignored by the two.  
  
"Yeah. Like Nick is not visiting the Golden Gate except when on duty." Cath was angry, although she did not exactly know why. She had not expected anybody around and now was in the middle of a nasty argument with Gil when she had wanted to talk to Warrick.  
  
"What the hell are you implying, Catherine? Nick was perfectly cared for by his colleagues. I would have been in the way only. It's different with Warrick. He needs me."  
  
  
  
Warrick mad another attempt to be noticed, then shrugged and, frustrated as he was, left the house. He could not understand what was going to with Catherine or why she attacked Gris like this. Only thing he understood was that Cath and Gris were fighting over something. He was only the initial spark. They were not fighting over him.  
  
The tall man made his way to a park where he sometimes went when his life was too much of a mess. He sat down at the lake and watched the swans.  
  
  
  
Cath and Gil had kept arguing until they realized two things: they were yelling at each other and when they stopped to apologize to Warrick, the man was nowhere to be found!  
  
"Great. Thanks a lot. I suppose that was exactly what he needed." Gil said sarcastically.  
  
"Damn. I'm sorry." Catherine was contrite, "All I wanted was to tell him I don't think it was a good idea to ask him out." Cath walked to her car and left. She was angry with herself. How could she let herself go like this? And how could she attack Gil like this? The man was her best friend!  
  
Gil watched Catherine rev up the engine and drive away. 


	8. Get Together

"I'm very sorry 'bout that scene. That was absolutely not what I had in mind" Warrick felt a hand on his shoulder. He did not start; he had heard the familiar steps coming up from behind.  
  
"Yeah. Was damn irritating to see the two of you quarrelling like this." Warrick glanced up, watching his friend sit on the bench besides him.  
  
"It was a surprise for all involved as I see it. Who would have thought that the two of us would end up fighting over you."  
  
"Fight over me?" Warrick was honestly surprised. He had not judged the situation as this, although the words had been clear. The green-eyed man snorted. "So, who won? Bear with me I'm a bit slow, it seems."  
  
"Depends on you, huh?" again the hand was placed on his shoulder. A gentle touch that felt so good, soothed his troubled soul.  
  
"Oh, I do have a word in this? Thank you." Warrick said sarcastically.  
  
"Warrick, don't act like a child. Besides, I don't think Catherine had anything to lose at all. Neither did she intend to win anything when she came around."   
  
Warrick looked over at Grissom, searching the man's blue eyes, "So...?"  
  
It was obviously that Warrick wanted Gil to come around, but the supervisor couldn't make himself do so. Like so many times in his life he found it too hard and too difficult to let down his defenses, to allow somebody else to see his true self.  
  
"Well, that's what I wanted to tell you. Before Catherine left she told me she came along to end it. I thought you deserve to know." Grissom readied himself to leave the scene. Part of him wanted so badly to tell Warrick what he felt, but the part that was in control wouldn't allow it.  
  
By the time Gris stood Warrick realized the man would never admit anything on his own behalf.  
  
"Gil?" a tentative test to call his supervisor by his first name. Warrick watched the other man stop without turning back, "You didn't make this long walk to say just this, did ya? Gil, talk to me!" Warrick was nearly desperate. This was now or never and he knew exactly.  
  
For a long time Gil Grissom stood motionless, nothing of his outward demeanor hinting at the inner turmoil. As he had said to Cath, he had always waited too long. Maybe this was the sole chance in life he had not to be too late? He would be rejected, he knew and that scared the hell out of him. But for once he needed to be honest, didn't he?  
  
"Please, Gil. Why'd ya come here?" Warrick's hand laid on Gil's shoulder as the younger man stood closely behind the stout figure.  
  
"There's nothing to be afraid of." Warrick blinked. Did he say that? He was counseling his supervisor? Had the world turned completely upside-down now? Then Grissom turned around and the sight nearly floored Warrick: eyes dark with emotion, jaws working in the attempt to speak. Who could claim to have seen Gil Grissom like this? But this was not about some competition. This was about – life.  
  
"I have always been too late, you know?"  
  
No, Warrick did not, but he simply kept listening, anxious to stop the ragged flow of words forever.  
  
"Even with you, Catherine had been faster and so much bolder. When I came over to your place, I really wanted to make sure you were OK, nothing more. I did not want to interfere. Anyway: I –" the man paused. The next two words took all his courage, maybe even more he had.  
  
"You don't need to say it, if you can't. I know. I can see it." Warrick's voice was a gentle whisper.  
  
"Can you?"  
  
"Yeah. You allow me to see it." Warrick reached out to cup Gil's cheek. Gil flinched a bit, not used to such contact but then closed his eyes.  
  
"It's just that I'm not stable enough for a relationship. You know that like no-one else." The regret and sadness in Warrick's voice were plain to hear.   
  
"This will never be over, Ricky." Gil's said matter-of-factly. But the endearment made it clear how much he felt for his protégé.  
  
"I can't have a relationship like this. I would ruin it, hurt you... I must fight this harder and bring it to an end."  
  
"Addictions never end. You will always have to fight. You are strong, you are making it. And where you falter I will catch you." Gil understood Warrick's reasoning. If he could not convince the younger man he would be able to live a happy life despite the demons that would always wait for a weak moment, Gil would have lost Warrick here and forever.   
  
Warrick's eyes lost their focus as his mind raced. He had always admired the grounds Gil walked on, the man's word was his gospel and there was nothing like Gil's curt words of praise now and then. For years he had denied his feelings for the older man. After all, Gil was his boss. Would it work out? Would he really be strong enough?  
  
"I'm scared." The dark man finally admitted.  
  
"So am I. Why don't we fight our demons together?"  
  
  
  
  
EPILOGUE  
  
Later that day Warrick and Gil sat on Warrick's sofa. Although they were close there was still a hand's span free space between them. Warrick would not push Gil. The man would make the next move when he was ready, Warrick was certain of that.  
  
"And you really let that fat spider walk your chest?" Warrick said incredulously.  
  
"It feels great. When you're a good boy, I might let her walk on you." Gil grinned. He felt very much at ease. He had been a bit afraid Warrick would have wanted more than he was ready to give but found he had been wrong. Ricky was very perceptive and would accept the fact Gil needed time to adjust and open up.  
  
"I'll behave. Promise" Warrick raised a hand to vow.  
  
"I hope so."  
  
"Gil?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Can I say it?"  
  
"Please!"  
  
"I love you."  
  
To both men's surprise Gil pulled Warrick into a long, soft kiss.  
"Ditto." Gil murmured. 


End file.
